Blossoms and Chameleons
by AutumnsFey
Summary: ABC-FF. Hyacinth Potter and Reborn. Two so entirely different People come together. Their childhoods, their despair, their happiness. Meeting and falling in love in Palermo as Magic and Flames mingle in an unprecedented romantic joining of two halves of the same soul. This is the Story of a blossoming woman and her unpredictable man. Not related to Lady Hallens 'Red String'. Fem!HP
1. Chapter 1 A for Abracadabra

**All it had taken for the strong woman he loved to break down was one word.**

One childish word. One damned second. One innocent shout.

That was all it had taken for Hyacinth to collapse; little Teddy playfully swinging around a short stick and yelling " _Abracadabra_ ".

One. Fucking. Word.

The second he had felt her still, had looked down only to see the glazed expression of impending flashbacks entering her beautiful eyes, an expression so unfamiliar on her breathtaking features it gave his heart a pang, he had reflexively tightened his grip around her and caught his woman just as her legs crumbled beneath her. Broken eyes stared unseeingly at him as the first tears escaped her luminous emerald-colored orbs.

He had immediately Floo-called Luna and had her collect a scared and guilty-looking Teddy before picking his beloved up, moving into the bedroom and settling them down in their bed, his tiny lover deaf, blind and mute to the world around her.

That had been four hours ago.

He didn't know what exactly had triggered the flashback, but whatever it was, he had the burning desire to see the reason eliminated, preferably by his own hands. Oh, he didn't mean by that to hurt Teddy, never Teddy. First and foremost, he loved the little mischief maker embarrassingly fiercely, and secondly … or maybe zero, come to think about it … he absolutely did not want to invoke his lovers temperament. Hyacinth could even make him tremble when she really got going, devious and temperamental thing that she had proven to be. Besides, as mischievous as the boy was, he loved their Hyacinth more than anything else. It was the first thing the both of them bonded over: Their absolute and unmovable love for the one exceptional woman who ruled their hearts, the sun, moon and stars of their universe. No, he wanted to kill, preferably slowly and painfully, the bastard who had made her have a fucking flashback by merely seeing her own child play-acting. As hitman he had seen more than his fair share of broken and traumatized individuals, children and adults alike, but he had always been strong, been fast enough to annihilate anything that could break his precious few; there was no remorse in his heart for the lives he had taken protecting what was his.

But this time … he was too late. He hadn't been there to protect her …

… and now the love of his live suffered for it.

And he didn't even know how or why.

It was absolutely unacceptable.

She shuddered against his chest again, silent sobs still escaping her bloody bitten lips as tears continued to soak his black dress shirt. His strong muscular arms surrounded her trembling petite form securely. Silent comfort was all he could give her, his calm protective flames soothing her frightened one.

It wasn't nearly enough.

Reborn hated this. He hate being so terrifyingly powerless in the face of her pain.

It felt as if any second now she could shatter.

His dark eyes were shadowed as he pressed a chaste kiss to her head, gently stroking her back and trying his best to suppress the killer intent begging to dominate his growling aura.

Ever so slowly, her breathing started to even out, but the tears only lessened slightly. He did his best to hide the anger on his face; anger at whoever had wounded her so deeply, so cripplingly. He didn't want her to know just how much he wished he could kill those responsible for her sorrow.

How furiously he wanted to unleash hell upon those bastards.

But this was neither the time nor place for that kind of fruitless contemplation; a topic of brooding he had at present time neither knowledge nor opportunity to realize.

He had to take care of his love now.

She was after all the most important person in his life.

He refocused as he felt her move.

" I-I'm sorry", she hiccupped softly, tear-stains marring her pale cheeks as she looked up at him, crushed beneath memories of a past he despised.

But that wasn't what she needed. Instead, he only tsked at her needless apology and gently caressed her face, leaning forward to kiss away the tears.

She whimpered and burrowed deeper into him, sighing as he tightened their embrace.

" Don't be. We all have our demons to bear", he stated calmly.

Hyacinth slowly shook her head, her thin hands gripping his wet shirt tightly, anchoring herself to the now.

He knew, it was important for her to have a focus point, a fixed variable that neither would nor could be moved and more than able and capable to withstand anything thrown at it. He was glad he could be that reliable anchor for her.

" This word … A-Abracadabra, do you know where it originated from?", she inquired shakily, her voice no more than a faint breath.

One part of the fucking riddle was solved. It was the word she had reacted so negatively to.

He answered her question in negative.

" It's a … a bastardized Muggle Version of the incantation we use to cast one of our darkest curses, one of the three Unforgiveables … punishable by a lifetime in Azkaban, a damned hidden prison located on a forbidden island and guarded by terrible demons sucking out not only every happy memory you ever had but if they can get away with it … even your very soul. That word … it originates from the only unbreakable curse in existence", she whispered brokenly, her haunted emerald-colored eyes burning into his attentive endless black ones. " Avada K-Kedavra."

Reborn felt a chill creep down his spin at those two words.

The way she spoke it … pure despair and hatred.

Never, not even on the day she had shared her past with him, had he heard her voice sounding so cold and hateful. This … was not mere dislike ingrained by society-taught norms. This was personal hate.

This was intimate unwanted knowledge.

Reborn had his own share of those.

" It is the killing curse."

He stilled.

They stared at each other.

Her eyes burning into his very soul but not truly seeing him, caught in memories he couldn't fathom, his eyes turning to black slits of ice, the promise of retribution for all that hurt her in them.

His wonderful gentle accepting sky should never know something like … that.

Not his sky.

Reborn gritted his teeth.

His love bravely continued.

" Two measly words and you are gone. The link between body and soul irreparable broken."

She closed her eyes.

" It took so much from me, that thrice-damned curse … Mom, Dad, Cedric, Mad-Eye, Remus, Tonks, Professor Dumbledore … and so many more", he gently stroke her hair, and she burrowed deeper into his arms, trembling but trusting. " Hearing those words … even bastardized … it still sounds so much like the k-killing curse."

He had known that she had lost her parents, a lot of friends and even more acquaintances in the Second Blood War, had known that grief was a part of her; from the first moment he had laid eyes upon her and seen that sweet smile accompanied by lovely but haunted emerald-colored eyes, he had understood that about her. The biggest part of him wanted to do nothing else but destroy the fools tormenting his sky, to let the dead pay for leaving her and the murderer or murderers for gifting her such a lasting taste of sorrow.

Sorrow of the kind that can fade but never disappears.

The other, smaller part knew that she was strong; stronger than that. She was damaged, partly broken, but she held strong, not succumbing to the despair grief so often brought forth. She was still here.

Every day, she fought on in this cruel world they lived in.

It was far more difficult to live than to die, and if she lived by mourning those lost? No one had any fucking right to get in her face about it. He preferred her being haunted but keeping going one than the alternative … an alternative he refused to consider.

" You will never have to apologize for grieving, love."

She bowed her head.

" There is more", he stated heavily.

" … I told you that during the war, I died. And I did."

His knuckles whitened at the horrible reminder.

He still hadn't successfully managed to suppress that revelation.

" I … just didn't tell you everything", she took a deep breath. " I went to my death willingly. I knew that I would die, it was the only way for Voldemort to finally be mortal again … because … I, too, was a Horcrux. I was anchoring him to this world. _One can't live while the other survives_."

Mio dio.

A shudder threatened to overtake him. That sentence … it sounded different. More than just heavy.

Final.

How could she deal with something like that hanging above her head? She had just been a child.

" So I went to my death, with the ghosts of my family at my side, and … and he killed me. For the second time in my life, a killing curse struck me."

He couldn't breathe.

" I died, Reborn."

Her voice broke.

And so did his restraint.

White-hot fury coursed through his body, igniting his flames as he pressed her against his body, as he held her like his life depended on it, flames bathing them both protectively.

He couldn't bear it. The idea of her gone …

Of losing her …

It was too much.

Reborn focused desperately on the touch of her cool skin, on the feel of her breath on his neck and the sound of her heartbeat. He focused on the smell of strawberries and morning dew.

She was there. In his arms. Alive.

Mio dio, she was alive.

If only he repeated it often enough, maybe the fear and panic would diminish.

She was alive.

" You are here. With me."

He needed to say it aloud. Needed to hear to words spoken, confirmed, made reality.

He needed to hear them. Needed her to hear them.

" Y-yes."

He exhaled deeply.

She was here. In his arms.

He didn't care how, he didn't care for the why. All he had was gratitude for the fact that she was still living. He only had gratitude for her miraculous survival or renewal.

Hyacinth reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck.

For a moment neither of them spoke, basking in the presence of each other. Then she sighed.

" I just … I just never managed to deal with it", she whispered, her hot breath tickling against his cool skin. " Those two words, even if only dropped in casual conversations, always manage to make me a wreck and break down. I try … I try so hard to ward it off, to stay strong … but I can't. I never can."

He felt more tears, hot and heavy, dripping down his collar.

" Merlin, I'm such a fucking mess", she whispered, choking on a self-deprecating laugh, her voice rough from crying.

And he knew where that came from …

… the bastards that posed as Blood Relatives, abusive pieces of shit.

As if he would allow her to put herself down. Again.

" Stop."

His voice broke no argument.

For a moment, neither of them moved. He needed this moment to collect himself, to take a deep breath and find the strength to actually speak.

Never before had he told anyone this. Never before … had he loved anyone enough to become so vulnerable.

But for his Hyacinth, he would bare his own demons.

" I enjoyed my life as Renato Sinclair."

A truth that hurt.

Her slender hand gently entangled in his black hair, keeping him grounded. She didn't say anything.

He knew she was listening. She always listened.

" I was known as the best hitman in the world, as unattainable, worked my way up from the streets, gaining enough respect and reputation that even long-established Famiglias' like the Vongola preferred hiring me and paying handsome money before they considered looking anywhere else and accepting less quality. I don't know if I was happy, but I was satisfied and proud."

He smiled bitterly.

" And then my hubris caught up to me. Il Prescelti Sette. The Strongest Seven. A fancy title that was nothing but a catchy front to choose from the best of the best the next Arcobaleno. And we were caught like flies in honey."

Her warmth was his hold.

It still hurt, how the pride he had fought for so long and hard to be allowed to have had been his undoing. The Arcobaleno curse had nearly been his damnation, in more than just one way. He had lost years of his life, had been forced to discard a life he had built painstakingly from nothing to something and then had to repeat the process again, only so much more limited in his ability and potential. Techniques he had developed and learned; lost to a body too weak to accommodate. Those he would have cautiously called friends; dying where he stayed never-aging, damned in the body of a baby.

It was a past life. One of two he was now no longer forced to endure.

But even having regained his own body after the curse was broken by Tsuna and his guardians and allies before his student became Neo Primo, or Vongola Decimo …

That fateful day they were cursed, not only did he lose a life; he nearly lost his ability to harmonize.

" Reborn …"

He closed his eyes at the sorrow in her sweet voice and leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. He protested as those gentle fingers disentangled from his hair, only to smile as they gently caressed his face and smoothed away the stress lines he hadn't even been aware of.

" The woman I was about to harmonize with, the only sky to fascinate me until that fateful day, betrayed us."

It was a confession that still hurt.

Because Luce, no matter how nice and powerful she had been, had only ever wanted them, him, for one thing: To complete the guardian set necessary for the Il Prescelti Sette. He never mattered as her sun – and in the end, he didn't allow himself to matter.

What tentative bond they had, he broke, just as she broke his trust.

And the fury nearly took his ability to harmonize and bond.

" She betrayed me."

Hyacinth smiled sadly.

" And still you loved her."

" And still I loved her", he agreed in a murmur, his lips touching her chin. " For the potential she had, for the pain she managed to sooth."

And he had. He had been able to love Luce, as a sun, not her sun, and protect her as a stand-in-guardian. But never her guardian.

No. For him to harmonize, after being so cruelly betrayed, took something more. It took his true sky, the one he could trust without question, the one he just clicked with. His beautiful wonderful lovely Hyacinth.

Carefully tipping her face upwards, emerald met onyx and Reborn smiled lovingly at the understanding, at the forgiveness he couldn't bring himself to ask for, freely given.

Understanding for his still lasting pain over a betrayal decades old.

Forgiveness for his former guardian bound and the distrust he had held.

She was perfect.

His kind of perfect.

" But I never loved her like I love you."

They kissed.

Slow. Gently. Deeply.

It was like taking a deep breath, like he was a beggar dying from thirst given taste of a nectar bringing him to life. Nothing could compare to the sweetness of her lips, the warmth and sensuality of their skin touching and moving.

Love and Happiness.

Slowly, they separated. Foreheads pressed together, eyes connected. As long as they always had each other …

He would be able to live without regrets.

Because they both knew: Reborn wasn't a nice man. For anyone else, for any other woman, he would have to hide that part of himself. Not her.

Never her.

She accepted him, all faults and flaws. And Reborn, as cold as he could be, was the bewitched servant worshiping the ground she walked on. He felt no shame, no need to hide. He knew, she would accept everything he said just as he said it.

She was his, and he was hers.

" I rose again as Reborn of the Arcobaleno.", he told her quietly. " With teeth and claws I reclaimed myself. But the part of me that was Renato died that day, and I will never be able to reclaim that. I never could bring myself to try."

He saw no condemnation. No judgment.

Instead, she accepted and understood. It wasn't all that different from her demons.

" We are so fucked-up", she deadpanned.

He rolled his eyes and pinched her. She startled up with a high shriek and shot him a baleful glare that he acknowledged with an amused smile, making her annoyed expression evaporate.

" I think I like being fucked-up with you."

She hit his chest at the innuendo, smiling softly at the sincerity shining in his eyes.

… he liked it a lot more when she smiled.

" Me too."

Sharing a quick kiss, he gave her a serious look. There was only one more thing he needed to say on the topic before he let her rest and recover from today's emotional roller-coaster; preferably lying in his arms and on his chest, their skin and flames touching and soothing each other in lovely comfort.

" Cia … you have to give it time. Let distance grow and numb the pain before you try to face it. As it is, forcing yourself when you are not ready will only hurt you even more."

She nodded slightly. He saw in her arms that she knew he was right; but he also saw the uncertainty of her own ability to follow through with the advice.

It would take time.

" Thank you", she whispered softly.

Reborn just shook his head and caressed her face, smiling accomplished as she blissfully closed her eyes.

" I love you."

His heart soared as those words, words he meant deeply and sincerely from the bottom of his heart, brought for the most brilliant smile on her breathtaking face and a satisfied reciprocating hum along their guardian bond, delicate but passionate.

Damn, he was not even just Head-over-Heels for that woman, he was completely gone beyond any help.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

" I love you, too."

She laughed suddenly, ducking her head sheepishly as he gave her a questioning glance.

" We are such a screwed-up pair", she explained with a light giggle.

He blinked, and chuckled amused.

Indeed.

What a pair.

 _~ The End Pt. A. To be continued in Pt. B ~_


	2. Chapter 2 B for Black

**The Black Family.**

A Most Noble and Most Ancient House.

Fanatically following the cred of _Toujours Pur_. Always pure.

It certainly was a nearly extinct Most Noble and Most Ancient Family, brought piteously down by wretchedly ill-chosen alliances and hilariously obvious and disastrous inbreeding. Point in case the emergence of one Bellatrix Black … enough said.

Hyacinth had been vaguely made aware before the start of her sixth year that Sirius had made her his heiress and left her Grimmauld Place and Kreacher. But dearest Professor Dumbledore, the old coot that he had been, in his very finite wisdom, and another well-meaning if manipulative attempt to make her life easier before she sadly had to die for the Greater Good, conveniently forgot to mention that this inheritance included just a teeny tiny bit more than a rotting tomb and crazy house elf.

Like … a Lord – or in her case – Ladyship.

One that Hyacinth surprisingly had just enough Black Blood flowing through her veins and more than enough Family Magic in her vast core to be able to accept as her inheritance and be accepted by Magic herself as the next Lady Black in return. See there, Blood-Adoption through her late godfather and an already dead pure-blooded paternal grandmother of the direct Black Line. Who would have thought?

The other Black Family members certainly hadn't. Especially Lady Narcissa Malfoy nee Black had looked very much out to take the Ladyship for herself, something that Sirius Will and Hyacinths acceptance though the Family Magic rigorously foiled.

It was quiet a nasty shock.

For everyone involved.

Or, well, one could also call it just another kick to the shattered pieces her lousy life had crumbled into.

But it was only the start of something much more …

… fundamentally beautifully and testing.

Being a Black certainly brought both good and bad.

She sincerely appreciated the family it included.

 **Hyacinth had truly believed that after the war her miserable life could only become better …** she honestly couldn't fathom how in Merlin's name the shame she called existence could get any worse than it was and always had been, having already lost nearly her whole family, too many friends to count and any freedom of choice the moment not only prophecy but the public proclaimed her as their chosen one, their destined saviour.

Because when you have hit rock bottom, the only way is up.

This naive belief held miraculously true until even Andromeda, little Teddy's grandmother and Hyacinths own great-cousin she didn't know how many times removed, betrayed her scrupulously.

A blow below the belt would have been kinder than the knife in her back.

No suspicions, no warning, no ultimatum. Suddenly, she was only allowed to see her own godson under strict supervision and during short scheduled visits that never exceeded half an hour at most. Those unreasonable and baseless restrictions turned quickly into a strict prohibition not to see the baby at all, graciously stipulated with the idealistic possibility of merciful reconsideration once she could prove that she had turned into a respectable woman and her wicked ways were a thing of the past. Oh, she certainly had an idea where the old bat had got her new unfounded assumptions from, but she had no proof, at least not until that very same evening when very unsurprisingly a very much unwelcome Percy Weasley had shown up entirely uninvited and asked her to consider a Joining of their family lines in his most pompous and condescending tone.

It didn't take much to connect the pieces after that.

Lips drawn in a tight-lipped smile, she simply let the family wards of Grimmauld Place throw him out.

And cried herself to sleep that night.

 **But Hyacinth Potter-Black was not prone to giving up, and she was even less willing to give in.**

Certainly not to greedy betrayers and backstabbers.

It goes without saying that the consideration she had once held for the Weasley's and the Granger chit was slowly but surely approaching the same level she held for the traitor Pettigrew – which meant that her regard for them was beneath non-existent. A sad thing for people who were once her best friends.

Even sadder was that she had come to expect treachery … and that her surprise at their actions left something to be desired.

She was young, she was still learning, and she was not perfect but she had survived two killing curses, one of those completely aware of her approaching death and accepting it with her head held high; she had died, for her godson and cousin returned and won a frigging war that should never have been placed on her shoulders to being with, burdened by a self-fulfilling prophecy and still staying true. She had lost too many, lost too quickly, lost to deeply … to lose even one more dear relative ever again, something that held more than doubly true for her own godson. Teddy was one of the only reasons she even bothered to get up in the mornings, reminding herself again and again of the bright little orphaned boy who needed her. It was her anchor in a sea of despair when grief threatened to capture her completely in an almost catatonic choke-hold.

She was not willing to capitulate. She was not a pawn on the board of chess the Weasley's obviously and wrongly thought her to be. Maybe their delusions stemmed from her compliance in the years prior. But she had, contraire to popular belief, indeed been well aware of the late headmaster's manipulations, and she had most of the time endured them willingly enough. Because as much as some results went against her own ethnics and morals, the well-meaning old man at least did not discard his pieces as easily as trash; he always had one last agenda in their favour and tried to save as many as he could. For the time at least, she had back then adhered to his gentle silent demands. They had an understanding.

Hyacinth and the Weasley's … certainly didn't.

And really, they just had to pick the one defenceless person in her meagre family that she would unthinkingly go to war with death himself about.

She would not lose Teddy.

Not to a gaggle of greedy redheads.

Not to his mourning grandmother.

Andromeda had made her choice.

Hyacinth only drew the consequences from it.

She went to court.

 **Two months later, Lady Hyacinth Potter-Black was the official and undisputed guardian and adoptive mother of Edward Theodore Remus Lupin-Black, her little Teddy-bear.** The scared as hell Wizengamot, congregation of pompous old windbags that they were, had declared Andromeda Tonks nee Black an unfit guardian after Hyacinth, looking like the unholy reincarnation of a vengeful Morgana le Fay herself in her fury according to her snickering platinum-blond cousin, had threatened to enact the Olde Laws, particularly in regards to the numerous debts, monetarily and magically, Wizarding Britain owed her many times over, and she had been given, among fearful glances and gracefully shut up traps, complete custody for the little boy she adored calling her godson. One of the strongest points in her favour was that, as Lady Black, Hyacinth was actually the child's Head of House. And she used it shamelessly to make sure the old back-stabbing banshee Teddy called grandma could never harm or separate them again.

She more than made sure of that.

Her Ladyship wasn't just for show; she was as much a Black as she was a Potter. And she truly delighted in demonstrating to an astonished Andromeda and her dumbfounded ilk exactly how much Black she was and how deeply the infamous Black Tongue could lash into the heart and souls of those considered an Enemy of the Family.

Andromeda never contacted them again.

 **Three days later, Hyacinth officially disowned the old woman from the Black Family.**

… no, she wasn't vindictive at all.

It was all for the Greater Good …

… of her little family, that is.

 **It was the first act of the end.**

The Light, especially the Weasley's who had after the war undeservingly risen as heroes and the model family for all that was good and proper, were many things but definitely not happy with her and her scandalously independent decisions. However did she dare?!

It was beyond ridiculous. And tiring. And … just not worth the words. Really.

Despite Hyacinth having broken ties with the avaricious lot of them in the aftermath of Ron and Hermione's cruel betrayal during the height of the Horcrux Hunt and her unforgiving attitude towards them, the Weasley's seemed disturbingly set on controlling and manipulating every aspect of her life, especially her little bundle of titles and very well-off fortune. They had told everyone who was willing to listen – which turned out to be devastatingly more sheep than Hyacinth would have expected after the war, that she was a labile traumatized little girl drowning helplessly in a still strange world, so susceptible to the dangerous allure of the Dark after having been surrounded by it all her life, courtesy of the Horcrux in her scar. They mercilessly and slyly expounded on the sheep's unreasonable fear of a new war, of power that couldn't and shouldn't be owned by other's than themselves, branding her as dangerous and delusional, a twisting of the facts until it appeared as if her former ties to the Light had always been the only thing keeping her from going Dark in the past; a picture that promised another bloody war in but a few months if she wasn't immediately and irrevocably returned to the Light.

In three weeks, she lost nearly all sources of support.

 **Kingsley had her summarily banned from the Auror Corps and had only reluctantly allowed her into the Ministry to attend the Wizengamot.**

McGonagall, as new Headmistress, purposefully excluded her from the offer of retaking what should have been her seventh year, an offer she extended to even those who had been marked as Death Eaters, stating clearly that as Hyacinth was now she would be indefinitely unwelcome to ever enter Hogwarts again.

Talk about being an uneducated blind old bitch … and the bitch wasn't alone in her pathetic ignorance.

Friends she thought she knew, acquaintances she had personally taught to defend themselves and their families and who owned her more than just their own lives, unremorsefully turned their backs on her, ignoring her whenever they accidently met. Some going as far as to hurry over the road to avoid her.

Shopkeepers, unknown people she had fucking died for, had been forced to sacrifice everything to, denied her purchase and closed their doors.

It eerily resembled her second year at Hogwarts. She hadn't liked being painted as a pariah then, and she didn't like it now.

It was a shunning of frightful propositions.

 **It was Molly, the meddlesome bitch, who told her oh so earnestly during a chance meeting in front of Gringotts that everything would be righted and returned to normal once Hyacinth saw the Light and Truth again and married Molly's dear Percy to prove it.**

It was only a half-asleep Teddy in her arms that let her keep her temper.

But Molly … was the very last snap.

They wanted to denounce her? To harass, demean, haze and shun her? They wanted to show her the Truth? The Light? All that was Good?

How sickening.

This … was not what she had died for.

 **This was certainly not what she had willingly accepted her death for.**

 **Hyacinth … was beaten down, trodden-on and heart-wrenchingly broken.**

She never denied that.

But no matter what else those pathetic traitors tried to cock up to discredit her, she was most certainly not going to take it lying down. She had kept her mouth shut, had been resigned to keep the peace and allow the storm to pass by, however this … this was the famous one step too far. Potter she may be, but she was also a Black and that not only in name but blood!

She would make sure to give those worthless brainless spineless sheep what they basically begged for …

… she would give them a Black in name, blood and deed.

She would follow her ancestor's roads.

And annihilate her enemies.

 **Despite all the drama, Hyacinth did not forget the one other human being next to little Teddy to stand with her: Draco.** After her cousin had daringly saved her from his father's dungeons at great peril to his own safety and the distasteful consequence of being disowned as a Malfoy, he had dutifully nursed her back to health, and loyally stayed. She didn't know why, she couldn't understand wherefore, but he had remained at her side through everything enemies and allies alike had thrown at them and proven to be more than a friend; he was family.

Because of this, she immediately took the older man aside once her mind had been made up and told him nevertheless hesitatingly of her plans for the foreseeable future, even those of disowning every Black but little Teddy, Draco and herself permanently from the Family, letting the Blood restart with them again. She told him of her deep burning desire to finally leave Britain's Wizarding World behind for good and start over again, somewhere far away where she was free from the remnants of a disastrously prophecy and ambiguous expectations.

And for her benefit, Draco haltingly came clean about the fact that during her time as his father's captive … and unwilling plaything, Draco's Magic had recognized him as one of her Knights, and that her magic in return, even as weak as it had been then, had fully and gladly accepted the bond as his Lady. They had been tied since that day, and any even remotely white hair one his head was completely her fault for worrying him so much. He had nearly laughed in disbelief at the frantic despair she had shown at the mere mention of having accidental caught him in servitude; something he was quick to assure her was not the case. To be a Knight, to be chosen and accepted, was a sacred blessing, and he was proud that she was the one he had bounded with. To find someone so worthy of serving as friend, family and protector that magic had blessed them was the most scared gift their kind could get bestowed upon them.

Besides, he had spoken gently but resolutely into her ear while holding her in a tight embrace and physically reassuring her of his unconditional brotherly love, she was all the family he needed, she and little Teddy, and to be so irrevocably and immediately accepted by her had been the most wonderful feeling he had ever had. She would never lose him; and he would fight the devil himself to protect her.

It was truly a long straining night full of awe-inspiring terror-inducing revelations, heart-breaking conclusions and life-changing decisions.

 **Weeks later, after being holed up since the night of revelations, it was a tired but firm Lady Hyacinth Potter-Black who was** **covertly spied entering Gringotts on the 1** **st** **of September 1998** , a day she should have returned to repeat her seventh year at Hogwarts if the population hadn't shunned her, only to never be seen leaving it again.

The young Lady had been seen accompanied by her disgraced cousin Draconius Regulus Black and her godson, Theodore Edward Remus Lupin-Black. On that day, Hyacinth Potter-Black thoroughly fed up with Britain called in all debts owed to the families she was the Head of, sold those shops she had shares in or outright owned that were located in Britain to the gleeful goblins, shifted her entire estate, now considerably grown, to Italians Gringotts Branch and disowned all family members but the three of them from the Black Family; though that one act alone disgracing dozens of influential pure-bloods. In one last act before leaving the damned island nation, she instated a mischievously cackling Draco, who would, once settled, split his time between England and Italy where he had found temporary accommodations for the three of them, as her proxy for the Potter, Peverell and Back seats on the Wizengamot and as her financial advisor.

 **When the disbelieving public cried in outrage she wasn't there to hear it.**

Thankfully.

And honestly, secured away in, surprisingly, Blaise Zabini's welcoming Family Manor in Northern Italy, with her cousin and godson safely at her side and blissfully protected under the Italian Ministries indefinite political asylum which they were immediately and, upon explaining the situation, gleefully granted, she could hardly care less for the fools who had forced her hand.

Blaise and Draco, on the other hand, laughed uproariously about the economic and political disaster one tiny pissed-off woman could accomplish. It was a source of amusement for years to come for the two young men.

It was indeed hilarious.

 **In the End, which to be precise was actually only their new beginning with a mostly blank slate, Hyacinth spent a few more months than she had originally planned recuperating from the stress Britain's Magical Population had so unwelcomingly heaped upon her.** She did indeed need this time to collect her thoughts, sort out her feelings and actually start looking forwards to more than the next day; it was such an alien concept to her, the novelty of contemplating her future.

She had a future.

It still had barely sunk in.

Blaise and his family had proven to be dears. Hyacinth had been able to enjoy her time with her newfound family and managed to get better, the beautiful gardens and peaceful library of Zabini Manor a soothing balm liberally and readily applied to her mistreated soul and broken body. It was a semblance of peace she delighted soaking up like a sponge, to the absolute elation of Draco and Blaise who watched her blossom out.

She spent her time with taking care of and falling even more in love with her little godson, getting to know Draco and Blaise better and learning about Italia; the country, the culture, the people, the language. Blaise was glad and proud to show her his homeland.

They had actually clicked the moment they had met again after not seeing one another for a year and having never had much contact prior to that; what with the stereotypical barricades of him being a Slytherin and her sorted into Gryffindor. It had been with a serene smile on her lips and an amused sparkle in her green eyes that she had indulged in just watching his bafflement and clear joy as their magic surged together, cementing the unbreakable bond between a Knight and his Lady and gifting a new brother to their little family.

The Zabini's couldn't have been prouder.

Blaise couldn't have been radiating greater pleasure at belonging.

Draco couldn't have been gladder for the help keeping his Lady safe and an old loyal friend at his side.

And Hyacinth couldn't have been any happier for the new and very welcome addition to her growing little family.

 **With Draco's and Blaise eager help, she finally got a nice quiet Manor near Palermo built to her discretion;** wine, olive, tomato and fruit fields Dobby, Winky and Kreacher cared for surrounding it in abundance, two large greenhouses encircled by plentiful herb beds standing tall and colourful flowers emitting their sweet fragrance into the refreshing sea air. It even had a big grass field and age-appropriate playground for Teddy to play in once he was a little older.

They finally had a home.

Teddy, Draco and Blaise more than approved; she was pretty certain that her little potions lab would be reassigned to their use … not that she, remembering back to her past experience with potions and non-existent talent for that particular brand of magic, could really blame them for banning her. Still, the image only elicited a happy little laugh from the young woman.

After having settled into her new life, she had now quiet a lot of time on her hands. She already finished restudying and studying the material of all seven years Hogwarts had to offer, having needed something to occupy her thoughts with after the Final Battle had been over, and had thus taken her NEWTs at the Italian Ministry just a week before moving into her new home. Seeing her growing boredom and restlessness, dangerous moods that promised to spell trouble if not quelled quickly enough, the two young man helped her find something she wanted to do to usefully waste her time; not that the Lady of three of the Oldest Magical Families in Britain would ever have to work a single day in her life even if she tried to squander everything she had away. They took one of the only things the Dursley's had ever done her a favour by forcing her to learn it, her outstanding ability and pleased passion for cooking and baking; and they gladly helped her open her very own little café on the outskirts of Palermo, not far from her home. It was a quaint little thing where she could sell and experiment with different kinds of coffee and home-made pastries; cakes, muffins, eclairs … the works.

It was a wonderful idea and she looked really forward to it.

… her two men and little boy certainly looked forward to the leftover treats they would get at the end of the day.

The way to a man … goes through his belly.

Literally.

 **The greatest surprise during her first year in Italy came two weeks before she was to open her little pet project – affectionately called the** _ **Pink Ribbon**_ **in honour of the bonds she shared with not only calm Remus but punky Tonks** **.** They were just painting the walls in different shade of burgundy and cream to create a nice contrast to the dark wooden floor as two certainly unexpected visitors turned up.

Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.

It was … fuck it.

She had felt her heart stop for just a moment.

Why would they be here?

Hyacinth had tried to run, to apparate, the terror of seeing the formidable if strange duo again had set her anxiety, her fight or flight reflex, alight; it was as if the walls were closing in, strangling her.

Wards she herself had placed now held her captive in her own shop.

Damn.

Those two, people she had thought to be friends once, had, to her knowledge, until now spoken neither for nor against her, but going by Neville's darkly scowling face, he was not pleased seeing her and that more than anything made bile rise up in her throat. She shrieked as tall strong Neville, who had steadily and expertly interrupted her escape attempts and cornered her, caught her around the middle and disallowed any more escape attempts, his grip tight without, surprisingly, hurting her. Blaise and Draco, who had been preoccupied with the wand point a serenely smiling Luna held them at, had their wands at the ready, and were more than fiercely inclined to hex the two newcomers who threatened their sworn Lady. Thankfully, it proved unnecessary. Instead of accosting her with ill intent, to harass, demean or hurt, she only felt two pairs of arms, one slim and delicate, the other strong and broad, surround her. Hold her. Embrace her. Secure her.

Assure her.

Be there.

And let their bounds snap into place.

… she really shouldn't have been surprised. Not with those two.

Their harmonizing magic flared for only a moment but it was such a powerful and warm surge, that it dazed them all. Blaise and Draco, baffled but thankfully calmed down, cautiously let their wands sink once the magic died to only a brilliantly affectionate humming in their minds and they truly comprehended that two more of the altogether seven possible members of their Lady's court had been recognized. Another Knight and a Shield-maiden, bringing their number up to three Knights, a Shield-maiden and a Lady. Five recognized members. Two still left to find.

Still shocked from the unexpected bonding, Hyacinth could do nought as Neville pressed her face against his strong chest and, while tightly holding her to him and making sure she couldn't wiggle her way out, literally ripped her quite the new one – for disappearing and frightening them to death. Her god-brother, as she was promptly informed was the correct term to call him, the formerly so shy and sweet boy who once he gained enough courage seemed to grow so far apart from her, a distant friend, now didn't hesitate to berate her like there was no tomorrow, like he actually cared for her, Luna's eerily focused and serious gaze a good berating in and of itself … and just slightly more effective than her god brother's rather emotional tirade and admittedly creative threats should she ever dare to give him such a fright again; to which Draco and Blaise, the traitors, only snorted.

Hyacinth honestly didn't care. She concentrated on what mattered: Neville hadn't rejected her; Luna hadn't deserted her.

They hadn't betrayed her.

Neville and Luna … they had kept her safe, they had protected her by staying away, keeping her secure from afar to observe the situation and act when the sheep and traitorous red-headed gaggle of worthlessness threatened her more covertly than was the norm for them. They had accepted her mistrust and fear, had resigned themselves to the roles they had to play, the villainous mantles in which they would be cast … just to make sure she was safe, even if that safety was to be far away. They had been ready to sacrifice their own happiness to assure hers.

No one could begrudge her the tears of relief and gratitude that soaked Neville's shirt or the tight grip she had on Luna's hand.

Two more wayward members of her ever-growing family had found their way home. And she welcomed them with open arms.

Something warm uncurled in her chest. A barrier of ice she hadn't even been aware of melted away.

This … it felt … like family.

Her family, together.

Hyacinth smiled genuinely for the first time in months.

 **From then on, her life had only become better.**

Neville and Luna, the pair of them as Hyacinth had been promptly informed finally engaged to each other, curtesy of Luna popping the question to a befuddled Neville, stayed in Italy and got to know the relocated witch and wizards better and vice versa. Luna provided the Mainland News for her father's publication and Neville had been accepted at the Saint Fiacre Academy of Herbology which was located in Ireland but allowed students to arrive via portkey for their daily lectures.

They integrated themselves so seamlessly into the others' lives that it seemed as if they had always been there. It was truly as if they had found two missing puzzle pieces that just … clicked.

Hyacinth hadn't smiled so much in years … if ever at all.

The two really had a marvellous impact on Hyacinths settling and recovery, to her first two Knights' delight.

Neville helped her actually the most by sharing stories his grandma had once told him about their parents, especially their moms and how the two of them became god-siblings.

Luna on the other hand didn't help her by working through the past; she helped by moving on and showing her just how beautiful Hyacinth's future could be if she allowed herself to hope and dream and simply go forwards. For the first time, a small gentle hand held Hyacinth's own as she found herself beneath all the expectations and broken trust

And acknowledged more than just her limitations.

She smiled and laughed and danced. She cried and screamed and rampaged.

She started to heal.

And a start was better than nothing.

But Luna didn't stop there. She talked with Hyacinth until they found a topic that really held the red-headed woman's attention, and then they planned what to make of it.

Magical Paintings.

Naturally, Luna translated that into buying materials for Hyacinth to experiment painting, self-study enchanting and happily bullying her actually quite willing friend into enrolling at the University of Palermo as a student for the History of Art course.

Hyacinth was willing but she feared being recognized. Luna reminded her offhandedly that she was a Black and had heaps of Family Magic. Family Magic she had unknowingly already displayed as a child whenever her so-called aunt wanted to ridicule her with ugly haircuts and she managed to grow it back over night.

It actually didn't surprise Hyacinth in the least that Luna, who certainly had no relations the Blacks, not only knew how to purposefully bring out Hyacinths Metamorphmagus ability but also how to, quite unorthodoxly, train her in one cruelling week how to control it near perfectly. And so, while now still the same bony, tiny, young woman with long burgundy hair and snow-white skin greeted her reflection in the morning, it was a slim, a fraction taller woman with slightly blunter but still lovely features, not quite as white skin and short wavy black hair that exited her bedroom after getting ready.

It was Hyacinth Evans who looked very much forwards to the start of her life as part-time college student.

Luna only smiled secretly.

 **Hyacinth … was happy.**

Accepting her Black Blood in name and deed was one of the best things that had ever come out of knowing of her magical heritage.

It was kind of poetic that if the sheep and their self-elected shepherds hadn't shunned and driven her out, she would have never chosen to go the way of the Blacks. And like so often, as Hyacinth had found out when it concerned herself, those dreadful things that others fear in regards to her hypothetical development would never have come true if not for their senseless actions trying to prevent exactly what they are in the first place enabling to happen.

She was by all means able to enjoy the irony.

How delightful.

… **the fact that a devastatingly handsome tall stranger with the most sinfully dark eyes she had ever seen, a hot as hell Fedora and ridiculously irresistible black curly sideburns frequented her little café had absolutely nothing to do with her recently found happiness and the blushing joy she took in her new life.**

Nothing at all.

Really, now.

… she had always been good at self-denial.

 _ **'If being a Black mean being bad and if being bad means to finally breathe without being on a tight leash than being bad and as such a Black is where I truly belong. Thus, I'm certainly a Black and may be bad, but I'm not Dark and never will be.'**_

 _~ The End Pt. B. To be continued in Pt. C ~_


	3. Bonus Chapter B for Black A True Witch

" **Teddy and you are Metamorphmagus."**

She threw her fact-stating lover a distracted look.

" Metamorphmagi. Metamorphmagus is Singular, Metamorphmagi Plural", she corrected absent-mindedly, turning back and rummaging in her dresser for something to wear. Preferably underwear, something she lacked at the moment. " But yes."

She felt the burn of those captivating dark eyes in her back, a pleasant shiver crawling down her spine at the delicious image of her lover, beautifully naked as he was born, lounging leisurely on their bed and watching her with heated gaze as her equally bare body was temptingly bend forward.

" You are shape-changers."

Ah, finally found. The white lace wouldn't look to scandalous beneath her cream-coloured summer dress, even if it should, against her experience with that particular dress, peak through.

She blinked as she registered his words and slowly turned around.

" … yes?"

Somehow, it sounded more like a question than confirmation.

She had never really thought about it like that – but in essence, they were shape-changers. … in the Wizarding World, it was just something that existed, a branch of Family Magic owned by the Blacks. She had never really thought about how it would seem to Muggles, having already been way to used to Magic by the time she met Nymphadora Tonks and her crazy cousin had exposed her to the wonder of Metamorphmagi.

But for a Muggle, even one as sophisticated and imperturbably as Reborn, that kind of ability had to look like something out of a fantasy novel.

Hyacinth bite her lips and blushed as she saw the way he eyed her now, heady and … calculating.

" So this isn't your true form?", he asked calmly.

Shivering, she shook her head slightly.

" Not completely", she explained, voice slightly raspy from the look in his eyes; it went right down below her waist. " It's pretty near my original body, but I don't want certain unsavoury characters to find me."

And she didn't. It had been Luna's idea to use Hyacinths newfound Metamorphmagus abilities to hide her from the stragglers and sympathizers of Voldemort as well as the sycophants and greedy betrayers that were so well suited for the light and even neutral parties, spineless boot-lickers the lot of them. And to this day, no one who hadn't been explicitly told who she had been, would recognize her as Jamie Potter or Hyacinth Potter-Black.

Here, she was merely Hyacinth Evans, Single-mother, café owner, finally undergraduate with a Bachelor of Art History and madly in love with the greatest hitman in the world.

She saw no reason to let anyone change that adversely.

" What differs?", Reborn inquired, an intrigued note in his voice.

Hyacinth smiled slightly, slipping into the white lace panties that daringly hugged her hips. Her eyes sparkled amused at the way his eyes followed up her legs with every move she made.

Men.

" Well, you know how you called me kind of bony at the beginning?"

Reborn rolled his eyes.

" You were malnourished."

Tact. Not available.

… ugh, she had actually gotten used to his penchant of ignoring polite boundaries.

" Hush", she chided him, closing the matching bra in the back, her breasts tantalizingly and tightly captured by the soft white lace. " If you called that bony, you would have called my original body at that time skeletal."

And he would.

He would have her strapped to the bed and force-fed her. Maybe even called in his friends to help.

At that time, three, nearly four years after the war, she had still been a wreck. Oh, she had come a long way from the betrayed broken young woman she had been with seventeen, but losing her best friends and the adults that had become like the family she never had been allowed to have after her parents death to a deep betrayal of their own making, had just been too much to bear.

Taking care of Teddy, studying, managing the café and her family affairs from Italy where she had been granted indefinite political asylum had been her anchors in that time, but they hadn't been enough to make her care more for her own health then absolutely necessary to function; she hadn't been able to bring up the strength to fight for something again after the blow Andromeda's perfidiousness had been.

She had chosen a slim body to explain her bird-like eating habits, but underneath that, her real one had been on the verge of collapse most of the time, just that bit more than skin and bones on her to live, the lowest limit necessary to not endanger Teddy by fainting and leaving a toddler in panic and alone.

Hyacinth Potter-Black had never been known for her self-preservation.

Reborn, on the other hand, was known for exactly that. And he took offence to her … bad habits.

So, he did as Reborn always does, and rectified whatever annoyed him.

" And now?"

She shook her head exasperated.

Only an idiot could not hear the deep worry tainting his interest.

As if she would purposely undermine him and become sick again. Even Hyacinth, for all her sporadically resurfacing lack of forethought and common sense in regard to her own well-fare, was not that dense.

… in Reborn's defence, though, he had spent months getting her on a normal eating schedule where everyone else, herself included, failed. It was only normal for him to be worried that in reality, it was not only all for nothing but that she still was sickly and as such, in an amount of danger he would not accept.

She only loved him all the more for it.

" Don't worry, I'm better", she reassured him, a gentle smile on her red lips. " I just … had a really hard time after the war regaining my former weight. Nightmares, guilt, lingering malnourishment from a childhood at the tender mercies of my lovely relatives. I'm nearly good now. And whatever I eat does go to my original body, so you helped more than you know."

He sighed relived.

She slipped into her dark-red lace-up high heels, tying them in the back before standing up straight again.

" What else?"

" These", she held her short black strands between her fingers. " Normally are a lot longer and burgundy."

And they were. Hyacinth cherished every moment she could be herself, something she had been limited in since Reborn had been there most of the time; but she would gladly discard any time she got out of her Metamorph-body if it meant being with him. She merely … it was her childhood that had taught her to carefully gauge another's, especially a muggle's, response to magic, and he was too dear to her to lose carelessly over a bout of hard-headed selfishness. It was easy to say that it's okay for the wife to be a witch, but living day for day with one, being surrounded by magic … for some, it could be too much.

Shaking her head and chasing away those thoughts she concentrated and her head and body tingled. A moment later, nearly hip-long burgundy curls cascaded down her back and over her bare shoulders, skin lightening to a nearly white tone. Her body became slimmer, narrower, even though to her own surprise her lingerie fit just as well as in her fabricated body, bosom and hips staying about the same. She knew that her facial features were finer and her eyes slightly bigger.

Reborn sat up, a very pleased expression on his perfectly chiselled face, and beckoned her to him. She went slowly, hips swaying in a way that captured her man's attention on a baser level and crawled on their bed, settling between his long toned legs, her curls trailing over her shoulders and pooling on the silk sheets.

He reached forward and took a curl, winding it around his finger as he tugged her forwards so she was pressed against his firm chest.

Her emerald-coloured eyes were full-blown, the heavy scent of their arousal filling the air.

" You are a redhead."

He smirked.

She blinked up at him.

There was no other way to describe the look on his face than …

… wicked.

" … what?", she demanded, blushing even harder.

His smirk widened as his fingers trailed down her face, over her long neck and down her bosom. She arched her back as his long fingers firmly gripped her breasts, squeezing them, making her moan wantonly.

" Nothing."

Even though the heat rising, she gave him an unimpressed look.

As if. Please … he could never bullshit her. Besides, their bond sung with his amusement.

" Love, don't make me force you to spill."

And she would.

" As if you could."

Oh, dear, it was on.

… in more ways than one. Hyacinth blinked and licked her lips as she stared down at the impressive sight between his legs, her wet folds begging her to just open up and let it take them.

" No espresso-cupcakes for a week", she managed to say.

His hands travelled lower, making her breath hitch.

" I will live."

The implied 'Contraire to you if I stop here' was heard loud and clear – and Hyacinth honestly didn't have it in here to deny it. If he even dared contemplating stopping now, she would fucking castrate him … only to reattach it, magically, naturally, again; she was just too fond of his littler Reborn to hurt it permanently.

Way to fond.

And he knew it.

… but for man like Reborn, there were just a few things that would be even more painful than castration, and she knew his greatest weakness. The one sacred thing he would not accept being in danger … well, the third thing, next to her and Teddy.

It was his own fault for pushing her that far.

" … I will revoke your Arabian-Coffee-Bean-Cream-Cake-privileges", she breathed in his ear.

He froze.

" Damn it, woman", her man cursed violently, his grip tightening noticeably.

She only smiled angelically.

" Now."

Reborn sighed and leaned forward capturing her lips in a short sweet kiss before looking her directly in the eyes.

She saw a spark of something in them which she definitely did not like.

" You are a red-headed, green-eyed, pale-skinned witch who rides a broom, has a cat and brews potions."

He shook his head playfully, chuckling.

" Love, you are a living cliché."

Hyacinth's black-painted nails bit into his flesh as she slowly gave him the sweetest, most poisonous smile she could manage.

… why exactly did she love him again?

" … I hate you", she deadpanned.

He just continued laughing.

 _~ The End for this Bonus Chapter. ~_


	4. Chapter 3 C for Chaos

**She had been watching him for weeks now.**

Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Like clockwork, he came. Those were his days, and she always made sure to have stocked up on her Espresso Beans and coffee-flavoured pastries when he was expected to make an appearance. She really couldn't help it.

He was so intriguing.

Tall, dark, handsome and dangerous.

… and those curly sideburns …

Merlin, Hyacinth had to blush just thinking of them.

He was the kind of man she never thought she would find attractive only to be completely blind-sided by just how strongly and how expressively her traitorous body and mind found him appealing – and that sexy smirk he always wore did really absolutely nothing to dissuade her quickly-developed crush. She was honestly resigned to her insuperable fate of flushing in the most awkward shades of pink whenever he so much as smirked in her direction.

Which was every time he was there.

And today, just like every other Wednesday, he wore a perfectly fitting black suit with a golden-orange silk dress shirt beneath and a small elegant black tie to round up that handsome picture. His black Italian leather shoes gleamed as he stepped into her small café.

Mister Dark-and-Dangerous was the first man she had ever had any kind of sexual urge for, and she just knew that if he proved to have the mind and heart to go with that gorgeous body and as such capture her interest completely, than she would be a goner, head over heels for a man she had until today not even exchanged more than a greeting, his coffee orders and banal pleasantries with – a status quo that a shyness she didn't even knew she had before meeting him begged to continue with! There was not a snowballs chance in hell that she could get the courage necessary to actually ask him out, Gryffindor parents and her own ill-chosen Sorting not-withstanding for now. She really was not that kind of brave.

Biting her lips before giving her attractive customer a coy smile, she felt a slight dusting of pink rise to her pale cheeks as she noticed that he let his eyes wander her form appraisingly.

Hyacinth knew theoretically that even in this body which was slightly altered by her Metamorphmagi-abilities, she was a quite pretty young woman. The dress she most certainly did not deliberately wore was a low-necked vintage model with a high waistline and a skirt part that flared out to just above her knees and was supported by two layers of black petticoats beneath. The white chiffon was imprinted with stylised black-stemmed red roses and she had matching red strap high heels on. Her short black hair swung with an inwardly curled wave around her face and its darkness accented her pale skin, green eyes and deep-red lips.

Still, compared to a man like that – she was a beggar standing next to a prince, so far out of her league it wasn't even funny. And yes, she was well aware that should Draco, Blaise or Neville ever get the barest hint of those thoughts spooking around in her mind, they wouldn't hesitate to physically disapprove them … after castrating whoever caught her fancy.

Overprotective gits.

… thinking about that, it just occurred to her that she absolutely had to forbid Teddy from ever growing up. The little terror would be worse than all his uncles put together.

At least in Luna she had an ally, despite the aggravating fact that her only female friend took way too much enjoyment out of Hyacinths embarrassment.

Oh Merlin, have mercy!

Smouldering black eyes stared at her.

" Chaos, Signorina."

His voice was a dark rich purr.

Hyacinth blinked as she had to inconspicuously grip the counter to keep standing, that voice shooting right down to her lower regions and setting them aflame in want.

Every time he did that she had the same reaction – it was kind of pathetic.

" Is that a traditional Italian greeting – or just something you do?", she asked this time without thinking, biting her lower lip nervously as soon as the damned question had left her mouth.

She had no idea how he could get to her like this! Not even when she had that damn crush on Cedric did she flounder around like a graceless baby doe.

And she hadn't even wanted to engage him in a talk! Looking at the eye candy that was Mister Sexy was more than enough for her!

" That's just me", he answered bemused.

At least he was taking her foray into social disgrace with humour.

" … I like it", she muttered quietly, pale hands already busy as they grabbed a Maxi-sized Coffee-to-go-Cup.

His thin sensual lips curled up in a self-satisfied smirk.

" Who wouldn't", he sighed amused, before leaning on her counter and ordering. " The usual, please."

… wow. As if he hadn't seen that she had already started on it.

Redundant much?

He accepted the small chocolate-chip cookie she handed him to kill the time while she set to make his extra-strong Espresso, licking his lips seductively after the first bite, causing more heat to flush on Hyacinth's pale cheeks.

It should be outlawed to be so sexy … but somehow, she got the impression that instead of discouraging, a law against his sexiness would only encourage him.

He just seemed like the type of man who was his own law.

" Mhm, Signorina, are you flirting with me?", he purred, his dark eyes capturing her emerald-eyed gaze as she stole another shy look at his delicious lips.

Hyacinth blushed deeply.

" How – why would you think that?", she nearly stammered, flustered at having been caught.

Mister Tall-and-Handsome leaned slightly over the counter, making her press both hands against her face to hide the flaming cheeks his close proximity had summoned as she avoided his sinful gaze.

" Perfect Espresso … wonderful delectable coffee pastries … a beautiful and sweet hostess … how could I think anything else?", he asked lowly.

Oh, this was so mortifying!

" … I-I am really sorry, really! I didn't want to embarrass you. Please forgive me", she pleaded, bowing her head slightly with her hands gripping the skirt of her dress tightly so she wouldn't try to do anything even more awkward with them.

" There's nothing to forgive. I'm not embarrassed, in truth I'm actually flattered."

Thank Merlin!

Hyacinth nearly cried in relief, a deep sigh of gratitude escaping her lips as she nearly sagged against the counter, never mind her customer's interested gaze staying on her the whole time.

" But Signorina, you really shouldn't tempt your luck."

She blinked.

So … did she anger him or not?

" Oh?"

He simply nodded.

" I'm not a good man."

Wow, didn't see that coming. Oh, wait, she did.

Hyacinth really tried hard not to roll her eyes. She honestly doubted that he knew just how ridiculous he sounded.

Talk about stating the obvious.

Besides, if she could be tempted with nice and sweet or orderly and respectable, she would have chosen a more than willing sheep from Britain who wanted to make her return to the light and not started crushing on Mister Dark-and-Dangerous here.

And she really did like the dark, dangerous and tall part …

" I'm certainly not the type of man who makes a habit of saving every damsel in distress he meets."

Wow, that, she actually didn't see coming.

O-kay … what a frigging arrogant bastard.

He had no idea who she was, he had no idea what she really wanted and had done – but he dared to call her a damsel? Her? The burning urge to paint his perfectly chiselled face a little semi-permanently red, preferably by way of a good old slap spiced with five long deep scratches from her long red-painted finger nails, reared its tempting head and she had to hold on tightly to her Occlumency shields least that man actually did become acquainted with the temperament her red-headed mother and Black-blooded paternal grandmother had so generously passed on.

… really, the fact that he was fucking handsome and she actually found his mystery more intriguing than annoying was the only reason her wand was still in its holster and not covertly out casting a very painful boil hex in a very delicate place.

Oh, but the urge to do just that …

No matter. The fact stood, she was most certainly not a freaking damsel in distress, thank you very much!

Hyacinth gave a poisonous little smile as she took a still steaming cappuccino-flavoured muffin and pressed the fluffy pastry into his again opening mouth.

Perplexed, he quirked an eyebrow.

Her index finger pointed behind him.

" There's the door – please do let it hit you on the way out."

Her darling Knights would have whimpered at the frost in her voice.

Something different entered the stranger's eyes, a gleam that could only spell trouble.

For her.

She pursed her red-painted lips as he provocatively took a bite of the muffin before freeing his mouth and actually had the audacity to lick his delicious lips, giving her a lecherous grin as he started moving out, pastry and coffee in hand, and the money due already placed on her counter.

She had no idea why he looked at her like that – and it really made her uncomfortable!

He looked like a frigging predator reconsidering what he knew of his prey.

And liking it even more. Damn.

" I will see you, love", he purred teasingly, dipping the sexy fedora on his head to shadow his heated gaze.

She bristled as he smirked and walked out, her voice carrying behind him as she called after him, fury touchable in every word.

" Don't bet on it, bastard!"

His laughter only stained her cheeks a deeper shade of pink as the door fell shut.

Delusional idiotic man! And to think that she had actually fancied him … okay, and she still did fancy him. But no one ever implied that Hyacinth had either good or even reasonable acceptable taste when it came to men – and he certainly fell in the category foolishly ridiculous crushes.

Snorting inelegantly, and more than happy that her little café was still empty so early in the morning, she returned to her cake preparations and ground the Arabian coffee Beans with just a little bit more … ah, single-minded vigour than strictly necessary.

… and she didn't even get his name.

What a rude idiot!

 **Two days later, a ticket for Andrew Llyod Webber's The Wizard of Oz arrived in the post.**

She immediately knew who send it.

What a presumptuous git.

 **And still she went.**

… she loved the Wizard of Oz. That's the only reason why.

Really!

Besides, it was next to taking custody of Teddy and escaping Britain …

… the best decision of her life.

 _~ The End Pt. C. To be continued in Pt. D ~_


End file.
